The girl rose. Her tears were so sweet that Charlotte wanted to take her in her arms, not abuse her body, but the command had been given.
“Please assist me, Loria,” she turned to Caius’ slave with the gentle order.
Soundlessly, Loria came forward and took Rosaura’s hands in hers, wrapping them with leather. Seeing the girl naked, Charlotte had to wonder why this young maid had balked so little when she was forced to disrobe. That had been the worst of Charlotte’s initial trials, but then, of course, this virgin was a different sort of woman. She was self-conscious, yes, but she had not uttered one word of protest. Only now, she seemed distressed as she faced the first torment.
Strung to the ceiling, the splendor of her body was only enhanced by the extreme posture. Her hips seemed more voluptuous, her breasts—though drawn up—appeared more fully rounded. To attest to the desire that was building in her body, both nipples were now engorged and purple—either the chill or desire turning them into buds that demanded tongue and teeth to suckle them.
In time, in time, Charlotte thought to herself. This may require more restraint than she believed possible.
Discovering the virgin’s beautiful backside, Charlotte admired how the line of Rosaura’s body moved so flowingly from shoulders to her clipped waist, only to swell into two fine cheeks of flesh. Charlotte began there, first whisking the whip along the skin; and then with a little more bravery, she began spanking the talons against the reddening flesh. A dozen, two dozen on her ass, then more strikes yet on her back. This whip was more sensuous than biting, but it allowed her skin to burn and the submissive to feel her first taste of a lash.
“Heavier!” Caius ordered.
Charlotte struck more fiercely and the girl began to cry—to even beg. Her tears were flowing, but so was the juice between her thighs.
Such strange desire flowed through the Lady Charlotte as she wielded the whip against the girl. How could this happen? Were these feelings a product of her unsatisfied lust? Or was it just the uniqueness of this venture that caused her body to flush with sexual desire? Charlotte wasn’t given time to figure out the full truth, however. Just as she was getting into her rhythm, Caius called for her to stop. Breathing heavily from the task, curiously winded and weary, she handed the implement to the master; and then stepped back. She watched the remainder of the scene as Caius ordered Lorio to eat away at the girl’s virgin snatch, while he continued to mount an offense against what little pride remained in her yielding flesh.
Rosaura took a savage and yet sensuous beating. Much like Charlotte’s first, it lulled the girl into expectations of even greater carnal thrills by such devices. She would learn soon, however, that all whips would not bite as sweetly as this one, or be brandished with such finesse. All such devices would not be designed to demonstrate her pleasure. Charlotte did imagine that this sinless child of Ilusia would not require the kind of punishment that she had in order to win her complete surrender and have her properly trained for the life she would lead.
As the whipping ended, Loria remained at the center of the young woman’s female crest, bringing her to the summit of her first powerful orgasm under such restraints. Once freed from bondage, Rosaura slumped limply to the ground.
In the days that followed, it was Lady Charlotte’s task to demonstrate the poses of submission for the dungeon’s newest initiate. The lady marveled at how easily Rosaura seemed to understand each position and the attitude required of her.
One afternoon, Charlotte was startled to see Mountbane enter the dungeon for an inspection.
“Present my slaves, Caius.”
“Yes, milord.”
The dungeon master had little to do but wave his hand and all of his uncaged slaves scampered to toe an imaginary line before their high lord. Lorio, Charlotte and Rosaura joined five others in the pose of inspection, standing with their hands clasped behind their heads, their eyes meekly downcast.
“What this? Clothes?” he spewed derisively as he came to Lady Charlotte. He pinched her chin and sneered into her face. “Take them off.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered. While Mountbane watched with his most critical gaze, she swiftly disrobed. Once naked as her sister slaves—except for the chastity belt—she took her place beside the others, hands gripped behind her neck. Her proud breasts stood out, heaving erotically—nipples erect.
“That’s better. While you serve in my dungeon, you’ll serve as a slave. Caius, a collar!”
A thick iron neckband appeared, quickly snapped about Charlotte’s throat.
“Even better,” Mountbane jibed. “Now come forward.”
Maintaining her pose, Charlotte took three steps toward her husband and stopped.
“This, slaves,” he said pointing to the chastity harness, “is what the price of disobedience will cost you. There is no sexual satisfaction for a slave who does not adhere to the discipline you learn here. The Lady Charlotte knows the pain of being denied.” He sneered, and then reaching for a key attached to his belt, he unlocked the belt and threw it to the side. Gripping Charlotte’s pubis in his fist, he shook the vulva noting how the humbled woman gasped. A fire of climax would rip through her with just seconds of such play, but Mountbane had no intention of allowing her to cum. His decree still in force, the beastly blackguard teased the untouched folds of Charlotte’s flesh until her body nearly erupted. Just before the first spasms hit, however, he stopped, withdrew his hand and left her haunted by the ending he refused to give her. Plaguing her with this monstrous torture, he denied her three times more. Her eyes swam with anxious tears, and her lips moistened as did her pussy. She was hard-pressed to maintain her pose with so much energy flowing through her needy body. Every muscle in her trembled, every vein was primed for a crashing finish. But the man was adept at such cruel devices; and knowing this woman well, he denied her once again.
Charlotte might have begged if it had been the two of them alone in the room; but such a breach of slave etiquette before the other slaves would only bring down a more wrathful punishment, and surely jeopardize her dream of freedom.
“Now, give her back the belt.” Mountbane stood before her while Loria obeyed the command. Speaking directly into Charlotte’s face, he laid on his last insult, “We wouldn’t want your body to grow cold now, would we? Then, this purgatory would be no punishment at all.”
“No, milord,” she whispered.
“So, tell me,” he changed his mood to one far more sunny. “How is our fair virgin?”
“She learns quickly, sir,” Charlotte replied.
“And when can I see her?”
“At your leisure.”
“Caius, you agree? Is this new slave ready for her service to my realm?”
“Being yet a virgin, she is yet untried in her sexual duties, but she knows the meaning of surrender. I have little more to teach her.”
Mountbane nodded happily, and nodding to the dungeon master, he left.
d
Some days later Charlotte and Rosaura left the dungeon. It had taken just a few short weeks to have the girl ready for Mountbane.
“So, wife, I must woo the woman,” Mountbane said as he caught up with Charlotte. She was making her way to the market on a mission for the castle cook.
“It would have been better had she not seen the way you punished me,” she replied.
“Did she take offense?”
“She has a sensitive spirit and is quite fond of me.”
“Perhaps so, but she needs to toughen her spirit,” he charged defensively. “This is not an easy place for gentle souls. She must learn to bear a simple remonstration without flinching.”
“That was hardly simple, sir!”
“And how’s that? I didn’t lay a harmful finger on your body.”
“But your wrath for me was undisguised. Your cruelty burgeoned.”
“And she must understand that, too.”
“I thought this venture was about caring—about love? Wasn’t that what motivated
you to woo her in the first place?”
“And my desire for her has not waned. In fact, it’s grown so that I can hardly have a whore or harpy, I’m so intent on having her.”
“Then be nice to her, treat her with kindness, woo her with gentleness. Have her to supper, send her flowers, feed her candies one by one, and follow them with a kiss to her mouth. Torture her with feathers and listen to her heart.”
“She doesn’t like the harsher means of love?”
“She loves that, too. But she wants a man who knows her heart as well as he can predict the sexual tremors in her body. Command her, yes. Insist, rule, instruct and discipline, but let her see what power you have for kindness, what great skill you have at sexual seduction. Instead of exposing your vengeful nature, drag up the softer one from the depths where it’s so well hidden in the bowels of your being. Woo her with that.”
“You mock me woman,” he said. His eyes lit sharply.
“And you don’t really care if I do,” she answered with a smiling sigh.
“Humph. Too bad I tired of you. You might have been a good one to grow old with,” he retorted.
“Should I think that a compliment?”
“Perhaps.” They strolled on, appearing more civil than they had been to each other in some time. “I’ll be on with wooing my new bride,” he told her.
“And perhaps seeing to your divorce.”
“That happens as soon as I decree it,” he laughed, and then pressed on to other places while Charlotte proceeded toward the market.
It appeared that despite the vileness Rosaura witnessed from the Lord Mountbane, she was enamored by his every word and gesture.
The man was not skilled in wooing from the gentler side of his nature, but that didn’t matter. Even when he was brusque, the poor virgin quaked with desire for him. His flowers, his kindness, a late night supper, and a stroll under a moonlit sky were awkward; and yet beside his whimsical torture of her body, they fanned her increasing desires.
“I don’t know how long I can last,” she poured out passionately to Lady Charlotte. “And yet, I feel so strange being attended by this married man.”
“We are not married, Rosaura. Perhaps there is still some document that binds us, but as soon as the scrap is found, Mountbane will rip it up and throw it in the fire.”
“And what will happen to you?”
“Hopefully, I’ll be gone from here… somewhere where my body can breathe again and I’ll feel safe.”
“I feel so safe I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
“We’re very different women,” Charlotte assured her.
d
It was much too late at night to be torn from bed for any simple reason. When Charlotte felt her body shaken by the maid, it took some several minutes before her conscious mind finally took charge. Her eyes were heavy, her body languishing in a restful sleep. Why would anyone need her at this hour?
“Mistress, you need to rise.”
“I need to sleep,” she said.
“No, please, you must come.”
“Is there a fire?”
“No, ma’am, Mountbane wants you.”
“Then it might as well be a fire,” she said scornfully. She tried to pull herself from bed and seemed hardly able to lift herself by her own power. The maid gave her a tug and she was on her feet.
“Your traveling clothes,” the young woman added.
“My traveling clothes?” The shock of that order awakened her more.
“He said to tell you there is an important mission that requires your obedient service.”
“A mission?” She was suspicious but unthinkingly compliant as she’d been trained to be. If she’d been thinking clearly, she might have questioned this “mission” more. Regardless, she would have donned her traveling clothes and presented herself to Mountbane at this ungodly hour.
“Sir, what could possibly…” she started to speak as she entered his chambers but was abruptly halted by the sight of several men—also in traveling clothes—present with her husband. Each one stared at her with narrowed eyes and scowling faces.
“They are Sir Guy of Baudaire’s fellows. You’ll be attended by them on your way to your new home.”
“What!”
“When you’re there, your chastity will be revoked, if that pleases your new owner. Just as we agreed, you’ll have your sexual life restored.”
“No! This is not what we agreed!”
“Oh?”
“No, milord,” she was on her knees at his feet, kissing them frantically—when in recent months just the thought of kissing any man’s feet, especially this one’s, left a sour taste in her mouth. She pulled up on her knees, imploring him with her tear-filled eyes. “Please, I cannot serve another master. Just give me my freedom and I’ll slip away on my own. Oh, please….”
“I want you out of Ilusia.”
“Then escort me to the border; send me back to my homeland. On my honor, I will promise never to return. I have no desire to.”
Mountbane looked at her, scornfully saying, “I’ve made other plans for you. Our divorce is done, but I still own you. You are a slave—and for your heritage, training and adept skill in making love you bring too much a price to let you disappear.”
“For your increasing kindness… as a practice for your new nature … in order that you enjoy the love you feel… because Rosaura would delight in such tenderness… because you once had some affection for me, please sir? ”
“I’m not that sentimental, not yet,” he answered swiftly. “You’ll have your sex just as I agreed, that’s all I’ll give. He may be older and a little grey, but Sir Guy is a horny man who will give you plenty of satisfaction. And, the kind you like best.”
“You know this man?”
“Never seen him. But I hear tales that he is quite a sadistic brute with bondage and lash.” He smiled, turned away, and finished quickly. “Take her gentlemen. And give this purse to your master when she is presented. Guard it well, it contains the key to her belt. You may return the purse with the remainder of my tribute.”
The fellows nodded, two of them lifting Charlotte to her feet and dragging her from the room.
Chapter Sixteen
It was to be Rosaura’s wedding day. Charlotte knew her time in Ilusia was at its end, but had not expected this brusque move. She’d hoped to witness the nuptials from some hidden corner of the castle. She would relish seeing the young maid taken by Mountbane’s rude erection, hearing her cries, and enjoying the physical feast that would follow. She imagined that this wedding would not be quite the free-for-all that hers had been. Mountbane, despite this latest villainy with her, had kept his bride-to-be guarded from the scorn and mockery that so often accompanied his scenes of sexual pleasure. It had been suggested that his bride would not be shared except by a few nobles—and just so the rites would be legitimate—and the fair virgin would understand her humble place in her husband’s world. Charlotte had envied her, her sweetness. She counseled and schooled both bride and groom—they both required her ear on ways to secure their relationship. This seemed strange since Charlotte had never known the kind of love they sought to have—except for her brief affair with Tristan.
Charlotte’s melancholy had been strong some days as she gave her wise advice, wishing she could practice these sensible things herself with the man she loved.
She pined for him to no avail, often forgetting the vow she’d made to stall her sexual feelings. Some nights she’d spent awake, her body burning for what it could not have. Her mind joined that torment, seeking the picture of Tristan’s face. Sometimes she failed to remember how he looked. Her memory was a blur.
Now, ripped away from her life and on her way out of Ilusia, she was more despondent than ever.
It took several days before the party of six, five men and one silent, sullen woman, stopped in their safe harbor. Charlotte was initially surprised by Sir Guy’s odd home. They’d been winding their way through a dank forest f
or two days, each day Charlotte thinking that the sun and sky had escaped them. Finally, they reached a small clearing where the woods gave way to a gentle meadow with a brook running through grasses. They’d reached their destination—a well built, but small mountain stronghold made entirely of stone.
“This is the man’s home?” she spat aloud to her companions. She’d hardly spoken a word since they began the trek, only what was necessary. She wasn’t sure she’d ever speak again, since there was nothing left for her heart to dwell on, nothing in her mind. Charlotte dwelled on emptiness, letting her spirit leave her. Why bother with passion, love, or even hope?
“This is your master’s mountain fortress,” one man said.
“And not his home?”
“This is where you will stay until he receives you,” was all the answer she got.
Fine, she thought to herself. The land was pleasant enough; the meadow quite lovely in fact. She could peer out from a window, if that were allowed, and feel the sun.
This secluded retreat was plainly furnished with simple rooms: a kitchen, greeting room, bedchambers and a dining hall. The dank interior gave her chills: the few tapestries seemed gruesome with clearly depicted hunting scenes she would find a horror to gaze on. Immediately taken to a bedchamber, she was locked inside. Another prison—what more could she expect? She liked the sparseness, she decided. With her best desires dead, she had no passion, or desire for ornamentation.
d
On the third day in the forest castle, Charlotte was taken from her room just as the sky outside was beginning to darken. The smell, even feel of the sultry evening hour was in her bones. The chastity belt had still not been taken from her, but that mattered little since her body seemed to follow her mind’s dreary and listless path.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked the men who held her arms with a firm grip she was not unaccustomed to as a slave.
The Surrender of Lady Charlotte Page 16